


Head Cannon

by AmiraHellion



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily Feels, DickandDamiweek2019, halloweencontentwar2k18, no profreading we die like mne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2019-06-27 17:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15690396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmiraHellion/pseuds/AmiraHellion
Summary: Just some little Head Cannons of mine (probably not cannon or watnot) but it makes my brain less itchy to just let it out~ enjoy this with me? :D





	1. Chapter 1

So 1st head cannon is that like one of Bruce's Dad (TM) tricks that he's learned over the years for comforting Batkids is the blanket in the dryer trick. You know, whenever the Batkids are being little shits, but Batman still loves them and just knows they're sick or tired or whatever, he puts a blanket in the dryer and then wraps them up like little heated BatBurritos with it. Just roll with me on this!

Dick:

"I’m dying, B, I swear, I’ve seen the light!" Bruce let out a sigh, watching his oldest flop about dramatically.

"It’s a cold, Dick." Bruce told him (again), not without sympathy for his congestion and dry throat because, of course, he hated when his kids even got a scratch.

"I don’t think it’s a normal cold, B, everywhere hurts and I’m so cold." Dick said pitifully, rubbing his face into Bruce’s hand when he felt the child’s forehead.

Bruce sighed again, but couldn’t help the affection in his voice, "I’ll see about getting you some hot tea and medicine."

Bruce found Alfred already making tea in the kitchen, pills at the ready, "For my big baby in the living room?" He asked with a smirk, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, for Master Dick." Alfred answered, a smile in his tone if not on his face.

"Alright, I’m going to get him a blanket." Bruce headed next to the laundry room, after grabbing a blanket from Dick’s room- his favorite from boyhood, heavy and fluffy, blue with the red Superman logo (Bruce hated it). He tossed it into the dyer, letting it run a short cycle.

Alfred was giving Dick medicine and the tea when Bruce returned, warm blanket in tow. Bruce bundled Dick in the blanket, watching his face go from a grateful half-smile to one of his beaming ones, "Its so warm!!" Dick exclaimed, wrapping into the blanket tighter, like a fish in a net, "Its been forever since you’ve done the warm blanket trick! I love it!"

 

Jason:

Jason was curled in on himself as much as possible, except for his busted leg (the reason he was on lock-down at the Manor- Alfred’s orders) stretched out on a pile of pillows.

"Master Jason, I do insist you take some pain medication." Alfred said as Bruce came into the room carrying a secret weapon.

"It doesn’t hurt that bad." Jason grumbled but still accepted the pills as Alfred gave them. Jason was like an animal when injured, constantly fidgeting and always on alert- guess a street kid’s instincts never dulled.

"Do try to get some rest." Alfred said, an undertone of disapproval to his words since Jason had refused to go to his bedroom, stubbornly setting up shop in the living room. Jason muttered something under his breath in answer.

"I brought you a blanket." Bruce spoke, walking towards his injured child with the secret weapon under his arm, while said child grumbled some more about not needing it. Of course, as soon as Bruce draped the secret weapon: a fresh-out-of-the-dryer warm blanket, over him, Jason fell silent with a soft sigh.

 

Tim:

 _One, two, three, four… five, six, seven…_ Bruce mentally counted the rapid succession of sneezes that wracked Tim’s body, feeling sorry for his son when he finally stopped; nose running off of his face, eyes bleary, and throat scratchy. Even Damian looked at Tim with pity.

"Bless you. Are you okay?" Dick asked softly with a frown.

"That looked like it hurt." Jason muttered.

"I’m," Tim snuffed loudly, "fine."

"Go to bed, Drake." Damian said, which of course made Tim hunker down a little more in his chair, expression hardening, as he stayed silent. Tim had been in deep with a case and was on day number three of relatively no sleep, even bringing the folder containing the case to the breakfast table.

Damian glared as he was ignored, opening his mouth to say more, before Dick interrupted, "Damian’s just saying that because he’s worried," A look from Dick made Damian’s protest die before spoken, "maybe a little sleep would make you feel better?"

"I’m fine." Tim repeated, focusing back on the file folder with hatred. Bruce shook his head, he knew that look. Pestering wouldn’t make the boy go to bed, so it would have to be something more…underhanded. Bruce slipped from his seat, unnoticed by all but Alfred and Cassandra.

He grabbed a blanket from Tim’s room, one of the larger ones so that Tim couldn’t fight it off, and threw it into the dryer.

The boys were still fussing when he returned, or rather Dick was softly coo-ing encouragements of sleep while Damian added snippets that didn’t help, Jason just snickered, and Tim blatantly ignored them. It made it all the easier when Tim was like that, he didn’t even see Bruce coming up behind him. He was just suddenly wrapped in a toasty blanket and swaddled with it.

"You really need sleep, Tim." Bruce told him, shifting his third son on his seat and getting the correct hold to carry the burritoed boy to his bed.

"Mmmn." Was all Tim offered, going limp noodle and letting Bruce pick him up.

"Night night Timmy, sleepies good." Dick offered in a gooey voice, kissing Tim’s forehead as Bruce passed with the already half-asleep boy in his arms. Tim groaned something that could have been a garbled ‘good’ without the ‘night’ or merely ‘gross’; he leaned towards the second one.

 

Damian:

 "M’alright Father." Sniffle, hacking cough that made Bruce wince internally, "I can patrol."

Batman could only shake his head at his youngest, "Not tonight. Alfred will be up with medication in a moment-just rest."

"But Father-!" Damian began to protest but a coughing fit broke his words.

Bruce stroked Damian’s forehead, "No, you need to rest. I’ll be back in jut a minuet to tuck you in." He said, collecting Damian’s blanket.

"Tt. Treating me like a child."

"You _are_ my child."

Bruce passed Alfred on the stairs, "Got the good cough syrup with the sleep aid? He might not go down with out fussing."

"Of course, just like his father." Alfred answered wryly, causing Bruce to snicker all the way to the laundry room.

The blanket, a gift from Dick, was a copy of Dick’s own, but with the Batman insignia and colors instead. ‘Unnecessarily soft and plush’ as Damian put it, even though he loved the thing. Into the dryer it went for a short spell, before Bruce was carrying it back upstairs.

Back upstairs and Damian had just finished the medicine while idly sitting atop his covers in a form of subtle protest.

"Lie down." Bruce instructed, watching his youngest somehow glare and pout simultaneously and flop facedown. _Maybe he’s spending too much time with Dick_. Of course, the expression of spite melted away as Bruce covered him with the warm blanket.

"Mmm, its warm." Damian croaked, drowsy already. _Works every time._ Bruce thought with a smirk at Alfred.


	2. Bats and Blankets Bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't think Cassandra is ever the whiny one who needs a blanket buuuuuut she still needs a scene too!!!! :D

Cass caught Bruce by the sleeve, all of her brothers in tow; like a chain actually with her gripping Damian’s wrist while the youngest held onto Dick, Dick had grabbed Tim, and Tim had grabbed Jason.

Bruce looked over the five of them and resisted the urge to grin at them at how silly they looked, "Yes?"

"Movie night." Cass said simply, "The King and I."

"I love that one!" Dick whispered excitedly to Tim.

"I see." Bruce answered with a nod, wondering whether this was just an announcement for some reason or, "And?"

"Come watch with us." Cass seemed to frown just slightly, cocking her head.

"Alfred’s making snacks!" Dick nodded with enthusiasm.

"Really father, why would we all come to say this to you…" Damian muttered.

"Some detective." Jason snorted.

"Losing it, B." Tim added.

And Bruce honestly felt warmed that all of his kids had trekked across the house to catch him in his office to invite him to movie night.

"I’ll be there then." Bruce chuckled lightly and gave a pat to Cassandra’s head, "Thanks for the invitation." The girl nodded back and then with her chain of brothers, turned them all about with a wide loop around Bruce and headed out to probably pick up bowls of snacks like cheddar popcorn and puppy chow.

"Can you let go now??" Bruce heard Jason ask.

"Only when Dick lets go of me." Tim replied.

"No!" Dick protested.

"Ugh." Jason groaned.

"Its better when we’re all together!" Dick practically cheered and then they were out of ear-shot, but Bruce was sure there was more half-hearted bickering.

After moving around some paperwork and realizing he wasn’t going to get anything done since he really wanted to go be with his kids, Bruce headed off to the living room. He peeked in to see the kids on the sofa- Cass in the middle with Damian on her left and Tim on her right, while Jason and Dick were on pillows on the floor in front of them.

"Anyone need a blanket?" He asked, and smiled as Cass was the only one to raise her hand eagerly. He could’ve guessed that, Cassandra always had a blanket during movie nights. "I’ll be right back." And tonight she was going to get a warm blanket, fresh out of the dryer.


	3. Bats and Bats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure the BatFam must have some favorite bats in the cave, and being who they are *trained observers*, I bet ya they can distinguish them.

"No no no, that one is Nacho." Jason interrupted, his sheer confidence making everyone go silent.

"What?" Stephanie finally asked.

"That bat, I named him a long time ago, his name is Nacho." Jason said with a point at the bat that they (the batkids collectively) had been talking about. Well they’d been talking about all of the bats in the cave, Dick saying how he’d tried to name them all at one point when he was Robin and suggesting they all name the bats together.

"How do you even know it’s the same bat that you named?" Steph inquired, perplexed.

"He’s one of the only red bats that hang out in the cave and he’s the most yellow-colored out of the lot." Jason answered, then looked over at Dick, "Didn’t you name one like little Dickie?"

"Ah! Little Dickie!" Dick beamed, "I remember! I wonder if he’s still around?" Now the eldest was actively looking around the cave, "Found him!! AW! He’s still so cute!"

"Should we even ask how he knows what bat it is?" Steph asked, while Tim was shaking his head.

"Little Dickie has a patch of darker fur that’s shaped like a shield on his back." Dick said matter-of-factly.

"Alrighty then...Tim, Damian, do you have anything to add?" Stephanie implored with a smile.

"Thelma and Louis," Tim directed with a point, "the only two hoary bats in the cave."

"What ridiculousness." Damian tutted, averting his eyes.

"C’mon…" Dick nudged him, "You told me last week that you named one Cyrus? Oh! And Scipio*?"

Damian frowned as if outted by his brother before relenting to point at two different bats, "Cyrus has a scar along his wing from where he injured himself and Scipio is the largest northern long-eared bat in the cave."

"All of you named a bat?! Then I want to name one!" Steph proclaimed and then looked around at the menagerie of bats before deciding on one, "That one!"

"No." Suddenly Bruce cut in, voice measured as he took a sip of tea. The kids hadn’t really been sure he’d been listening to this conversation except as background noise.

"’No’ what?" Steph demanded.

"That one is already named." The batkids glanced at one another in confusion. Bruce turned around in his seat, crossing his fingers and looking like a serious meeting is about to go down, "Her name is Pipsqueak." And then the kids started giggling, because did Batman really name a bat Pipsqueak?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus and Scipio are the names of two military leaders and yeah, Damian would totally name bats after military leaders, right?


	4. Bats and Ninjas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce can still sneak up on the kids and they HATE it!

Jason:

"Are you hurt?"

"JESUS fucking Christ!" Red Hood most certainly did **not** just jump out of his skin. "Don’t do that!" He hissed at Batman, watching the older man study him with his Batman face.

The sharp downturn of his mouth meant he was worried, the way his hands moved as if ready to sweep over Jason for injury but barely holding back, "Are you hurt?" Bruce chose to repeat, inching closer into Jason’s space, "Oracle said you were in a firefight and then your comm went down." Red Hood was surprised they hadn’t both spontaneously combusted at how close Batman had gotten now…it was kind of nice.

"Oh yeah, that." Either a bullet had ricocheted off of his helmet into the wall or off of the wall and then into his helmet, he didn’t remember, just remembered the impact and sound that had made his ears ring.

"That?" Batman repeated, and oh man how Bruce was leaking into his body language, bad enough that Jason didn’t have to be Cass to see it. Red Hood swallowed his desire to laugh, jerking when Batman’s hands were on him, "Were you hit?" He didn’t wait for an answer, hands tracing Jason’s sides, abs, and back, checking his neck and helmet. Batman froze, "Take off your helmet." Yep, must’ve found where the bullet ricocheted.

"I’m okay, it was just a ricochet. Probably don’t even have a concussion." Probably. Then again, maybe that’s how Bruce snuck up on him? Then again again, this was Batman.

"Hood, helmet, now."

"You know, you’re not my boss." Jason said, just to be difficult and despite the fact that he was taking off the helmet.

"Symptoms?" Batman asked.

And goddamn that Robin-training, "headache, ringing in the ears," He winced as Bruce shined a small flashlight in his face, giving him a glare, "Light sensitivity, but that might just be ‘cause you just blinded me."

"Maybe." Batman deadpanned, and my god, was that a joke? Maybe Jason really did have a concussion, "You should still get checked out."

 

Cassandra:

Reading was hard. Cassandra could feel her brow furrow as she focused. Why was it so hard? The boys made it look so easy. All these words, laid out before her, just waiting to tell magnificent stories and yet…

"Cass."

Cassandra didn’t jump in her surprise, didn’t jerk or jar, actually the opposite, tightened all muscles, readied herself for a hit- punishment for dropping her guard, her father had always punished her when she dropped her guard, even someplace where she was supposed to be safe. _Safe._ She had to tell herself, relaxing all of her muscles and looking over at Bruce in apology.

His body was open, not even a hint of aggression, which how BATMAN was able to do that was amazing. He seemed to understand, glossing over her reaction without a word, instead leaning over the couch from behind with an adoring smile, "Having trouble?" He asked with a nod to her book.

"It’s hard." She offered, nodding back.

"You do so well despite that." Bruce said with a little chuckle, praise not merely in the words. Cassandra was instantly warmed, patting one of his hands, and earning a pet to her head for it.

"Read to me?" She asked, holding the book to him in nonverbal demand.

"Sure." Cassandra curled into her dad’s side as he sat beside her. She loved when Bruce read to her, his voice was melodious and soft when it wasn’t the Batman growl or the Brucie fakery; Jason always liked to say that he could calm crying babies with it. Well Cass wasn’t a baby, but it was certainly very calming all the same.

 

Dick:

Round and round, one, two, three, build up enough speed to fling himself upward into the air, flip, twist, catch the bar again. And more swinging, Dick missed this, he really should do more acrobatics, it relieved a lot of stress. Not having to think of cases, not worry about anyone getting hurt, equipment, day-time work, etc… just have to focus on the bar and the mat, his muscles- their strain and lax as they let him perform feats that his parents had taught him. Yes, he needed to get into this habit again, but of course, there were still things to do…

"Nice dismount."

"AH!" Why was Bruce just there?! After all these years, the man really had to stop doing the ninja thing to his eldest! "When did you get here?!"

Bruce eyed him with mild amusement, "I was here first." _How?!_ How had Dick missed him? "Lot on your mind, son?" Bruce asked, well not really asked, because his face said that he already knew the answer. "Anything I can help with?" Before the question was even finished, Dick deposited himself into Bruce’s arms, making the older man chuckle warmly and hug his son, "Hug first, questions later, hm?"

"Always." Dick answered with a bright grin, "By the way, I’m getting you a bell, you’ve gotta stop sneaking up on your own family." Dick murmured, making his father just laugh again.

 

Tim:

Tim sipped his coffee and frowned at how cold it was. There was something just so…unsatisfying when your coffee went cold, something wasn’t right with the world when a man was drinking cold coffee.

"What’s wrong?" Tim jerked at the sudden voice, locking his arms so that he didn’t throw his coffee all over himself or the BatComputer.

He sighed internally, closing his eyes, then looked over his shoulder, "Hey B." _You need to stop doing that._ Went unsaid but he hoped his tone conveyed it well enough.

Bruce studied him, analysis and then…amusement sweeping over his expression, "Did I surprise you?"

"You think?" Tim muttered back, sipping his coffee and then frowning even more-it was even worse now.

"Sorry." Bruce apologized though he was still smiling softly, he pet Tim’s head as he walked over, "Coffee gone cold?"

"Yeah…" Tim said with another dejected sip. Ugh.

Bruce took the cup, "Come upstairs, we’ll get you some fresh."

 

Damian:

He didn’t even sense him, _goddamnit!_ But suddenly a large hand had landed on Damian’s shoulder, making the boy jerk in shock, yanking away despite that the hand had already released him, only the soft ‘Damian’ in his Father’s voice making him take pause from drawing the knife that he’d gripped in his pocket.

"Father." He composed himself as quickly as he could, a slight tremble to his body because being caught unaware deserved punishment. He tried to make it stop, having learned that Bruce never punished for such things, but his heart still hammered in his chest, adrenaline running from the shock.

"I’m sorry for surprising you." Bruce said gently, Damian instantly hating that his father felt he needed to be treated softly and yet appreciating it all the same.

"Its fine." He replied quickly, probably too quickly as he forced a couple breaths. An awkward silence followed, father and son observing each other quietly for the next step, yet neither indicating a preferred path. For some reason, Grayson came to the boy’s mind. "You do need a bell." Damian said, surprising himself at the randomness, trying not to smile at Bruce’s own surprised look for half a second.

But, this statement still earned him a smile from his father that made him warm. Bruce reached out and ruffled Damian’s hair, "So I’ve been told."

 

ALSO! Bonus! Alfred can sneak up on Bruce 'cause mwahahahahaha! >:]

"Fucking stupid piece of sh-"

"Language." Bruce jerked upright at the voice behind him, startled. He looked back and wanted to pout as he used to as a kid at seeing Alfred. He was Batman now! Alfred shouldn’t be able to sneak up on him. "Just because you don’t think anyone is around, doesn’t mean you need to be using such foul language. You know better." Alfred admonished, ignoring Bruce’s glare.

 (I do think Bruce cusses when he's frustrated and thinks no one is around)


	5. Bats to Beasts?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm of the mind-set that they all have been turned to animals at least once or twice. :D (Plus I'm such a sucker for animal transformation stories!)

Instance 1: Roasted!

(This blurb is also inspired by Inktober Day 3 'Roasted'. I know Inktober is for artists but my friend said I could play too :D)

It happened very rarely, but it did happen (this was Gotham after all) where the Red Hood was getting cornered by a bunch of goons and his only option was to call on his brothers _Pft ‘brothers’_.

And even more rare, the four of them working as a team were actually in unison and yet still being backed up.

 _It’d be nice if B were here._ Jason thought and then instantly wanted to bang his head on the wall. Sure, they were getting along right now, but it did no one any good to be too reliant that Batman would always be there to swoop down and scare off these two-bit gang-bangers. _Yeah, they’d be running at the mere sigh of B’s ugly mug._ They were those types of thugs. Besides, Jason knew Batman was on a mission with the JL anyway.

"Um, guys…" Hood could hear a weird urgency to Tim’s tone as he whacked his bo staff into a punk’s knees.

"What?" Nightwing asked back, almost sing-song, flipping and jabbing two men in the back with his escrima sticks, watching them seize under the voltage with a cheerful chuckle.

"Look up…what is that?" Tim inquired, while his brothers obligingly looked up.

A huge black shadow whipped through the sky, blotting out the full moon and the heavy cloud cover.

"Airplane?" Nightwing put out there.

"Not that low."

"Batplane?" Hood offered.

"Movement’s not right, look how it banks."

"Organic. It’s an animal." Damian stated, snapping a thug’s wrist, elbow, and shoulder in rapid succession.

"An animal?" Hood asked, incredulous, "That fucking big?" And only getting bigger as it descended. "What the **fuck** is that?!"

Nightwing let out a yelp, one of the thugs getting in a lucky shot while they all were distracted. Then suddenly, a stream of blue fire crossed the area, making a smooth ring around the four brothers and sending their attackers running while they tried to escape the flames.

"It’s a dragon." Someone murmured, amazed.

And hell yeah, the thing that had just landed, making the asphalt tremor under its size, was definitely a dragon. They were so gonna be roasted alive.

-

"So that’s Bruce?" Dick asked Superman, watching the dragon inspect the cave. It was a surprise they’d even gotten him in here, almost more surprising than him being a dragon.

With Superman’s help, they had guided the Bruce-dragon in through the BatPlane entrance, finding out that of course, Bruce-dragon was equipped with the ability to get smaller, and maybe many other tricks. He stood about the size of a horse with a long tail and massive wingspan when they weren’t tucked neatly in.

"Yes. It was Morgana." Superman replied, watching like everyone else as Bruce prowled around, sniffing at things and making this weird sound at his kids- something between a bark and a coo.

"Is he…in there?" Jason asked, tapping his temple with meaning.

"Must be if he recognizes us," Tim answered, stepping back as Bruce decided he was done exploring and turned to the boys, "right?" The dragon advanced, pushing his muzzle into Tim’s hands and poking at Damian with his tail.

"Father!" Damian protested when the dragon flipped his cape and made a victorious sound. Bruce turned to his youngest, scooping him into a wing, squeezing him close to his side, and purring-was that purring?- at him. "Father?"

"Feel like Bruce to you, demon-squirt?" Jason asked with a teasing smile as he saw Damian tracing the dragon’s scales softly.

Damian flushed, "Clearly its Father if Superman just said that it is." The youngest spat venomously.

"Kinda amazing though. Why would Morgana think it was a good idea to turn B into a dragon?" Dick wondered aloud, reaching a hand under Bruce’s chin and looking into Bruce’s true blue eyes that were still so clearly his. He stroked the horn on the dragon’s snout, Bruce making a pleased sound.

"OH MY GOSH!" And that would be Stephanie, excitedly clapping while she, Cass, and Alfred descended the stairs. "Batman’s a dragon!? This is great!" Bruce made noises at them, flapping one wing. "Of course you’d be black. Don’t you know that other colors exist?" Bat-dragon snorted at the blond, sliding his tail over to Cassandra and making her jump over it when he swiped at her with it. "So what’s the deal with B-man being a dragon?" Stephanie asked, while Cassandra had started some weird game of jump rope with Bruce’s tail.

"Morgana." Dick and Supes answered together.

"And when does it wear off? I mean, we could leave him like this, he seems much cooler already." Steph stated with a wide grin.

Damian glared, "Father is sufficiently ‘cool’ no matter his form!" Then blushed hotly when his defense was met with dead silence, before everyone burst out laughing. The Baby Bat’s shoulders stiffened, body coiling, embarrassment and rage marking his face with a clenched jaw and scrunched nose.

Bruce roared loudly then, the cave echoing with it and the bats shrieking in distress, the BatKids all jerking back in surprise, "What the fu-!" The dragon snorted at them, smoke puffing from his nostrils, before giving Damian a soft purr and another wing squeeze. He then made a grating noise at the other BatKids, clearly he was scolding and even managed to get some mumbled apologies.

"Yeah, he’s still in there." Jason muttered.

Superman decided it was time to leave. With a promise to send Zatana over as soon as possible and a wave, he flew off, leaving the boys to hit the showers and the girls to poke at BatDragon some more.

   - 

 “Is he supposed to eat that, you think?” Tim was asking softly as everyone in the kitchen watched the dragon snatch the half-baked pancake that Jason was mid-flip on, gobbling it in one swallow, and licking his lips.

Jason cussed at him, raising his spatula menacingly, “Goddamn it Bruce! That’s the second one! Other people gotta eat too!” The dragon merely coo-ed at his second eldest son, then snatched the spatula too, “Hey!”

“Master Bruce.” Alfred reprimanded, eyebrow raised. BatDragon wilted, returning the spatula to Jason who complained about dragon spit, and then ambling around to the other side of the bar. He squeezed in between Dick and Damian, tucking his tail around the chairs and Tim’s ankles on Dick’s side.

“He was just playing.” Dick patted Bruce’s head.

“The kitchen is not the place for that.” Alfred replied smoothly, maneuvering around Jason to set out plates.

The dragon grumbled lowly, then perked up as Dick was given a cup of coffee and dipped his tongue into it. “Hey!” Dick whined while Bruce made a strange dragon face.

“’He’s just playing’.” Jason said, monotone with a sly look.

“I don’t think you’re even supposed to have coffee. What if it makes you sick?” Dick ignored Jason, in favor of turning to his father-turned-dragon. Bruce just cocked his head as if silently judging and slurped up more coffee. ”Hey!”

“Master Bruce.” Alfred called again, expression promising expulsion from the kitchen if the dragon’s shenanigans continued. Bruce trilled lowly, tucking his head under Damian’s arm.

“Pennyworth, I’m sure Father is merely acting out due to his situation, is it not better to allow him some things?” Damian spoke, rubbing the dragon’s snout. The other kids all hid smiles at Damian’s defense of their father.

“Dami, you’re so sweet~!” Dick sing-songed, earning a glare.

-


	6. HalloweenContentWar2k18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to make myself take part in Tumblr's #halloweencontentwar2k18~ And here are the results of it. Please enjoy~

October 29- 'Festive'

"Rules." Everyone groaned loudly at Bruce’s favorite word, Stephanie making a point to drop her head back with the sound, while Jason made a ‘kill me’ slitting throat gesture. Bruce was undeterred, "No fighting, no property destruction, no leaving the permitted area. We all came together, we’re all leaving together. Buddy system, no exceptions." He said, tone closer to Batman than the Brucie one, "Understood?"

"Yeeeees~" Came the unanimous response.

A hand shot up, "Yes Jason?"

"Can Alfred be my buddy?"

"No! Cass and I called him in the car!" Stephanie responded, pushing on Jason.

"Well maybe he likes me better!" Jason pushed back with a grin.

"Hah!" Steph barked and the two tussled. Bruce sighed softly, shaking his head, but he wasn’t counting this as fighting and he was just glad everyone was here and relatively happy.

‘Relatively’ because well… "Father, why are we here?" Damian demanded, petulant as always.

"We’re here to pick out pumpkins." Bruce explained, wrapping an arm around his youngest (and buddy for this thing) and steering him into the pumpkin patch. Bruce could hear the ‘why’ in the arch of Damian’s eyebrow, "And then we’re going to take them home and carve them, because its fun, and its family, and Alfred demands it, and what do we do with Alfred?"

"We appease him." Damian answered with the crafted response that all of Bruce’s children had learned at some point.

"Very good." Bruce smiled, which Damian mimicked. "Now, let’s find some pumpkins."

The lucky winner of Alfred as a buddy was…Tim. Alfred had snagged the boy while Jason and Steph rolled on the straw-laden ground, Dick and Cass watching them go with grins.

"What size of pumpkin do you want, Master Tim?" Alfred asked.

"I want one of the white ones, I saw this picture of making a mummy with it. And you, Alf?" Tim inquired, "The usual?" He smiled knowingly.

Dick was still pulling straw out of Jason’s hair as they wandered the pumpkin patch.

"Stop preening me!" Jason snapped finally, "I’m not a bird."

Dick took that with a blank look that turned into a huge beaming grin, "No, Jaybird?"

"Shuddap!"

"JayBIRD!" Dick said gleefully, running away while Jason chased after him with a roar.

Cass pulled the last piece of straw from Stephanie’s hair, listening as the blond rambled about what they should carve into their pumpkins.

"Cat." Cassandra announced as she found the perfect pumpkin. She had decided it last night when this pumpkin patch trip was announced. She was going to be carving a kitty face on her pumpkin.

"Jesus, did you buy the whole pumpkin patch?" Barbara asked as the wayward group returned to the Manor, carting pumpkins into the kitchen.

"Well, you needed a couple, and we always need a few extra just in case." Bruce answered, true to billionaire form.

"In case what? Jason blows up the original twenty?" Barbara asked, helping smooth out the newspapers across all available surfaces.

"ooo~ if the carving doesn’t go well- I’m definitely doing that!" Jason called, unhelpful. Barbara shook her head, but asked no more as she was set up next to Dick with a knife and full range of carving tools. She watched as Dick carefully hollowed out his two pumpkins then got to work on the simple face for one- the same he did every single year.

"What cha doing with yours, Dami?" Dick asked, leaning over towards his brother as the boy was plastering a paper that Bruce had printed on his pumpkin. Damian shied away but Dick was relentless, "Ah! The Robin insignia! That’s awesome!" Of course, this brought everyone over and soon it was decided that they all must have their symbols done. Because, what was a family without the matchy-ness?

Stephanie was the first one done, her first pumpkin retching its guts out didn’t take half as much time as the others- even with the addition of her BatGirl pumpkin. Once Cass and Tim were done, the blond pulled the two away with conspiratorial whispers.

"Are you guys done yet?" Stephanie asked in a whine, causing Bruce and Damian to both look up with the exact same eyebrow arch and frown. This, of course, made the blond laugh hysterically, while Jason, Tim, Dick, and even Cass could only grin widely. Barbara was shaking her head with a smirk.

Damian’s eyes narrowed, voice coming out in a growl, "What?"

"Nothing!" Dick put up his hands in surrender, "You and B just looked like twins, it was so cute!"

"CUTE?!!!!!" Damain’s flushing cheeks did not match up with his voice that was indignant and all rage. "How dare you spout such nonsense! F-"

Bruce interrupted, putting a hand on Damian’s head, "Just ignore them." He said softly then gave a steely look to the others, "We’ll be done in just a minuet." Steph sulked while the others looked away, properly sheepish. No one wanted to ruin this day that was going so well; especially for Damian, who was extending his full effort to be good, he hadn’t even fought with Tim beyond a snarky comment or two, and had overall been surprisingly pleasant.

"Content yourself with helping to clean up your work areas." Alfred said; instructing the proper way to store pumpkin guts for use later in breads and scones, and helping to spread seeds over pans to bake with a dash of salt.

Damian and Bruce had finally finished, just as Jason was reaching their area with a washcloth and grin that screamed ‘time’s up!’ The two had just lifted the pumpkins for inspection and Jason was swiping the area clean.

"Thank you, Jason." Bruce offered, not quite sarcastic, but definitely a little sardonic, not that it was cutting when given with the Dad smile ™. Damian gave a glare, which earned him a noogie from his brother that he couldn’t dodge with the pumpkin in hand, "Let’s go set them up with the others." B ushered, before Damian could formulate a response with his hands full.

The two added the final pumpkins to the full lot that was lined up just outside the front door for a picture; they would be displayed at intervals along the driveway afterwards.

"This gets better every year, Bruce!" Dick clapped his hands excitedly as they looked over the pumpkins. Bruce ‘mm’-ed and rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if maybe they had gone overboard.

Alfred’s single mandatory pumpkin- a classic jack ’o’ lantern that was simple but perfectly shaped and cut.

Bruce’s two- the Batman insignia and an intricate monster that silhouetted a little cabin and some trees.

Dick’s two- Nightwing insignia and the basic face that he’d made every year- a remembrance of his last Halloween with his parents and his first with Bruce.

Barbara’s easy witch that came from a cutout book and her designated Oracle pumpkin.

Jason’s two or rather three- RedHood symbol and a scary big pumpkin eating a tiny horrified pumpkin.

Cass’ little kitty faced pumpkin and one for BlackBat.

Tim’s two- a white pumpkin that had been sliced horizontally and then stacked just slightly askew to make a mummy, and the RedRobin that he’d been begged to make.

Steph’s puking pumpkin with its guts as vomit, and her BatGirl one.

And lastly, Damian’s incredibly detailed bat and moon, as well as his Robin one.

"There’s so many!" Steph added joyously.

"Family." Cass added with a nod.

"Gonna have pumpkin desserts all the way until next October." Jason snickered.

"Alright. Picture time, let’s get this over with." Tim called, setting up the tripod with the camera for the obligatory picture; he’d offered to take it himself but Alfred said no-they all had to be in the picture.

"OH!" Steph exclaimed, and brightened, _too much_ Bruce wondered what she’d done. "Cass and I made something for the picture!"

"What?" Damian asked with suspicion that his father shared.

"Lookie!" The two girls produced printed-out and poorly colored facemasks that matched their hero identities, "Tim helped too! He did yours B-man, he even got the ears to stick up!" Stephanie passed out the masks and Bruce discovered that yes, the ears really were upright thanks to some taped on pipe cleaners.

"Thanks Tim." Bruce called while his third son smiled wickedly in answer.

"Crown for you." Cass told Alfred as she gave him a paper crown to put on his head while the others donned their paper masks.

"Father, do I have to wear this?" Damian asked with a look at Bruce.

"I will if you will." Bruce replied with a smile. He could see the thoughts buzz through his youngest’s head, he wanted to see Batman in such a silly mask for sure. "I’ll tie yours on."

And so there they were, each holding the pumpkin with their insignia, a goofy mask on their face, and even more pumpkins at their feet, when the camera flashed and recorded that moment for the future, hopefully all still together then too.

 

October 30 'Cozy'

　

"Oh god, change the channel." Jason groaned while Dick was already brightening.

"Jay! Its Halloweentown!" Dick said excitedly, determinedly not changing the channel. His arm, that was not in a cast, holding the remote out of reach.

"Its Disney channel and you’re a grown ass adult." Jason replied, not even trying for the remote with his broken leg.

"Ssssh, don’t say the a-word." Jason was sure the ‘a-word’ was ‘adult’. "We **have** to watch this! Its tradition! I didn’t even get to watch it last year." Dick pouted out his lip, looking at his younger brother with the most childish expression. _How does his face even do that?_ Jason was sure his face would break if he tried to beg with it that way, "Pleeeeease~?"

Jason sighed, rolling his eyes, but something in his annoyance must’ve hinted at Dick’s victory, because the eldest was starting to grin before Jason even answered, "Fine. Hand me my crutches, I’ll leave you to it."

"NO!" Dick gripped Jason’s arm with his good hand, "You have to watch it with me!"

"Dick…"

"Its so lonely alone…" _Oh god, here it comes_ , "Damian is with the Titans and Tim’s helping Kon with something, and Bruce and the girls are on patrol…please? It’ll be fun together. Remember how we made Bruce watch it with us that one year, like marathon-ed all four movies and made fun of his face?" Jason smiled despite himself -that was a great memory. There was something about making Bruce watch movies, like the idea of getting Batman to watch Disney was great as it was, but in addition, he always had this look like he was engrossed. Jason used to think Bruce was probably picking apart the story line and characters and mentally listing all the things he could be doing instead of that.

Jason sighed, "Fine, but I’m only watching the first one with you." He said in warning as he settled back into the sofa, readjusting the pillows under his leg. Dick cheered, cranking up the volume and dragging the blanket off the back of the couch. Jason gave Dick a look that didn’t deter the elder brother at all, as he draped the blanket over both of them and leaned against Jason, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Jason let it go. This was nice and there was no one to see anyway, so he was going to let himself have this time with his brother. Dick was probably the easiest to be cozy with, without the judgement and all. Like Tim was great, but baby bird did not go out of his way to pester for physical affection, to serve up his love on a silver platter in a way that was universally understood. And Damian was…Damian, more confused than Jason was about this family-thing (and wasn’t that something). And Cassie was sweet, but she didn’t have the gooey words and overt ‘I want to be around you’ to her body language. So here he was with Dick…

"Debbie Reynolds is the bomb." Dick whispered, giggling as she turned the chicken in the bowl into a live chicken. _Ah, the useless commentary_ , Jason thought, fondly annoyed, he was pretty sure that when they were younger, Dick had made a comment like that and laughed at that exact scene.

Alfred checked in only once, offering snacks and securing the blanket around them tightly with a wicked gleam in his eye, before he disappeared.

Jason knew he was far too relaxed, he didn’t even make a move to get up when Halloween Town was saved and credits flew by on the half-screen while the introduction to Halloweentown 2 started to play on the other half. Dick said nothing either, just leaned even closer. Oh god, this was going to be a marathon, wasn’t it?

Bruce got back to the Manor, taking off his suit and cowl and rolling joints, it had been a cold and wet night- typical Gotham. The hot shower was bliss to his overworked body, the hot tea that Alfred offered was even better.

"How are the boys?" Bruce asked as he walked with Alfred up the stairs, "They didn’t give you any trouble?" Now he knew that neither Dick nor Jason would really give Alfred a hard-time, especially when they were drugged up for their broken limbs, but they could be a handful-just as stubborn as Bruce about not resting properly in some ways.

"Oh, no trouble at all. They’re watching a movie." Alfred said, his tone simply delighted though his expression was still mostly neutral. Bruce quirked a questioning eyebrow and was promptly gestured to the living room. He took the hint and peeked into the doorway, unable to resist a smile at his two boys. They were wrapped in a blanket together, watching the TV, totally at ease with each other. It was wonderful to see, especially since Jason was almost always wary when he was at the Manor.

They must’ve sensed his gaze, Dick waving while Jason was freezing up with a blank look on his face, "Hey B!"

Bruce made sure not to comment, looking away so Jason didn’t get more uncomfortable, "Is this Disney Channel?" Bruce studied the TV and chuckled, "Halloweentown, hm?"

"All four!" Dick proclaimed and Bruce took another glance at them, Jason was shifty but…not angry. Bruce had to school his features to not grin, Jason was embarrassed-it had been a long time since he’d seen Jason embarrassed. The blush really gave a hysterical touch to the edginess in Jason’s expression. "You gonna watch with us?"

Bruce shook his head, "No, I’m turning in for once," He offered a brief smile, "Have a good night, you two."

"Goodnight, Dad!" Dick waved him off.

"Yeah, goodnight…dad." Jason uttered, almost as Bruce was out the door. It gave his heart a little squeeze, warmth that would let him rest easy tonight.

 

October 31 'Spooky'

"You know…they say this place is haunted." Tim murmured and Damian felt an involuntary shudder run down his spine.

He turned a glare on his brother, "I don’t believe in such nonsense!"

Tim was unfazed, both by the ‘haunting’ and Damian’s response, "Okay." He shrugged, "I was just making conversation, its going to be a long night, especially since we probably beat the drug lord here…if he comes at all…and we’ll have to wait him out." True point, this operation was meant to be a sweep and then stakeout, "I read about some of the history of this place, as well as the blueprints."

"…and?" Now Damian was curious. Red Robin wouldn’t initiate a conversation-especially with him- unless it was truly interesting, right? They began the sweep as Tim spoke, able to use their flashlights sparingly courtesy of a full moon and the lights that rounded the hospital from outside, flooding through the large windows.

"It used to be an asylum…before being a temporary TB ward and then was abandoned. Lot of people died here." Tim spoke, "There’s a bunch of stories. Like this was the children’s wing…"

You couldn’t tell. The walls were sterile white, criss-crossed with dark cracks and peeling paint. The border hinted at color, barely, so terribly faded that Damian couldn’t tell if it had once been blue or green- especially in the half-light from the window. Beds with moth-eaten mattresses were flipped, the metal pieces rusted and the leather all chewed up by age…and maybe something else.

"Its said that ghost kids wander around here, playing hide-and-seek and singing rhymes." Tim let out a little hum that echoed terribly in the empty room. Damian heard something like a giggle in response to Tim’s noise and gave a sharp look at his brother; probably just a trick, manipulation. Tim shrugged, but looked…apprehensive… "Let’s… move on. I don’t see any signs of a drug-lab here."

Damian nodded, covering Red Robin’s six as he led the way deeper into the decaying hospital, "Think this was the wing for the violent patients. See the extra thick doors?" Oh yeah Damian saw the heavy doors and the long scratches in the walls and across the boxy area where the pills were probably kept and administered. The marks were gouged deep, the wood still holding some rust-colored stains of old blood.

There was a bang that made both boys jump, Tim raising his bo-staff and Damian withdrawing his katana in a swift movement. The room was still empty, no enemies. "Chair." Tim murmured with a gesture to a chair that must’ve fallen over. There was a screech, kind of like metal on metal, out in the hallway.

They traded looks, Tim pulling out a small mirror on a skinny metal stick that could be extended. Red Robin crept to the door, getting down and sending the mirror out, while Robin got in a defensive position, ready for anyone to burst through the door. "I don’t see anyone…better keep moving."

"Agreed." Damian followed out the door, walking down the hallway.

"Why is there a heater out here?" Tim muttered, as they passed an old school heater that looked like it had been dragged down the hall, leaving scuff-marks on the floor tiles and the wall. Was that the sound they’d heard? The marks looked rather recent, but…to what end? "Huh." Damian wanted to utter the same sort of sound as he saw the words on the wall at the same time Tim did.

"’We’re so cold’…" Damian read and wondered briefly if he was being set up for a trick. It wasn’t as if anyone in the family, even Father or Alfred (god forbid), were above a prank here and there. Drake’s pranks usually were elaborate and unexpected, like this…but this was a mission given by Batman, that they had taken over for him since a newer, more dangerous, drug location had popped up.

"I betcha some idiot thought he was clever…" Red Robin said with a short chuckle that sounded fake even to Damian, "Let’s keep moving." Robin nodded without a word. If Drake had wanted to trick him, wouldn’t he be trying to egg Damian on? To scare him? Clearly that would’ve been the objective of this prank? So why…did Tim seem just as unsettled? "God, the crematorium." Tim’s lip curled slightly in disgust.

"What about it?" Damian asked, probing to see if maybe it really was a trick.

"This is where they used to burn the dead bodies…some reports said they did it to living people too…" Tim responded, "People say there’s scratch marks in the burners where the victims tried to get out." Damian gulped while Tim shook his head. "One of the stories says you can hear the screaming sometimes and the desperate scratching." Damian studied one of the black ducts, sure he could make out the scratch marks on the stone even from his viewing distance. He could just imagine trying to crawl your way out while the flames ate away at you- skin, then fat tissues that would burn hot, muscles, down to the bone…

He jerked when Tim touched his shoulder, withholding the urge to attack just in time, "Let’s get out of here. I don’t think we’ve seen an indication of the drug lab yet, so let’s keep looking?"

Damian nodded rapidly, following with a last glance back at the shadows, glad to see nothing in the lurking dark. They finished the sweep of that floor, moving up the stairs to the next, discovering the lab in what used to be a surgery room.

"Guess its time for the waiting." Tim sighed, "Let’s get comfortable up in the ceiling and make sure it can hold our weight." Damian nodded, secretly ready for the waiting part, he was creeped out more than he let on and the stakeout was a welcome thing- better than wandering this hellish hospital with its randomly falling furniture and strange noises.

Once they established that the ceiling tiles would properly hold them, Tim and Damian began their wait, "So…you don’t believe in ghosts? Like at all?"

"Nonsense, of course not." Damian replied, "…do you?"

"Well, I don’t know about ghosts exactly, but like I think the spirit can stick around when something bad has happened…I mean there’s so many stories, stories across cultures and mythologies that it does make you-" Tim suddenly froze, went stock-still mid-sentence, so abrupt that Robin was alarmed.

"What is-"

"Something just touched me."

"What?" Damian frowned, fishing for his flashlight, while Tim jerked about, "Like a rodent or something?"

"No, definitely not!" Red Robin’s voice pitched, as he kicked, "Not a rat!" The ceiling tiles crackled under the violent shifting of weight, "Drop, Robin." Tim ordered, Damian immediately vacating the ceiling and watching his brother slide down upside down after him.

"What was it?"

"I don’t know. Think it was a person." Red Robin signaled a retreat, both in defensive postures as they walked backwards out of the room.

"A person." Damian repeated, incredulous. Who would be climbing up in the ceiling other than them?

Something flickered at the edge of their vision, both glancing over in time to see the last trace of lightning in the sky, while the lights outside died. "Ah great, now rain." Tim hissed, barely heard over the crackle of thunder.

Damian caught a blink of something on their other side, "Red Robin." Another blast of light and sound, the thunder making his ears ring while the lightning was temporarily blinding. The moment his vision was back, a shadow was pacing towards him. He jerked back into Tim, unsheathing his sword with intent to kill, screaming a battle cry of, "Come, ghost! I will slaughter even the undead!!"

He felt Tim get ready at his back, flashlight swinging up to reveal… "Black Bat??" The two boys asked, startled to see their sister. "What are you doing here?"

"Back-up." She answered simply, cocking her head, "Scared you, sorry." Robin and Red Robin shared a look that spoke volumes, should they even bother denying their fear? This was Cass, who was smiling now, mask unzipped so they could see it, "You thought I was a ghost?"

Damian could feel his face flush. "No, he doesn’t believe in such nonsense." Tim answered in his place, with a smile that was good humor, nudging his little brother, "He was playing along for me, right Robin?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first run at this sort of thing and I feel a little disjointed but I guess its okay?? Feel free to drop some comments-I love those :) <3


	7. The Sweater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I believe that the BatKids will actively steal clothing from one another and Bruce! Its what families do, especially if you can steal big cozy sweaters~ :D

  
“…Is that my sweater?” Bruce asked, eyeing the gray sweater that Jason wore that was most definitely his. It matched the gray sweatpants Bruce had on.   
 “…” Jason looked at him, biting his cheek as he formulated a response, “Dick stole mine!” He pointed at his elder brother, that was indeed wearing a maroon sweater that was just baggy enough that anyone could tell it wasn’t his.   
 Dick rose to the accusation, with a grin, “I borrowed! Since Timmy took mine!”   
 Tim barely looked over from his place on the couch where he was wrapped around a hot teacup and his tablet, Dick’s blue striped sweater draping around him, “Cass.” He pointed at his sister that wore Tim’s red turtleneck sweater.   
 Cass waved regally, “Damian, my sweater. Tim’s works.” The baby of the family crossed his arms over the black sweater with a white cat face on it, lips pouted in a ‘so what!?’.   
Bruce sighed, he really shouldn’t be surprised anymore. It was one of the things that had baffled him when he’d first adopted, how now things weren’t just his anymore- not that he minded sharing (actually, he liked that the kids were comfortable enough to share clothes without much thought).  And more astonishing? How it went across the board, ALL of his children were clothes thieves, and Bruce was their favorite victim.

He could still remember the first time he saw a tiny Dick swallowed in his steel blue cashmere sweater. It had gone past Dick’s bony little knees and the sleeves were rolled but still falling over Dick’s hands like mittens. Bruce had let Dick keep that sweater and bought the exact sweater again…  
Which Jason had taken. It wasn’t the first of Jason’s thefts of Bruce’s clothes, but it was the most memorable in some ways. The cashmere also had engulfed Little Wing, he had pulled the collar up to tuck his cold nose away and still it went past his knees. Jason hadn’t even bothered to put his arms in the sleeves, instead wandering around with the sleeves swinging wildly. Jason had kept that sweater too…  
And again, Bruce bought the exact sweater, and again, a Robin had donned it. This time was Tim. Swimming in steel blue fabric just like the boys before him, it melted Bruce’s heart a little. He’d also just been glad that it could help warm Baby Bird back up after he’d taken a plunge in Gotham harbor earlier that night. Bruce never asked for the sweater back.   
Clearly it was a lucky sweater, always there for his chilly kids. He bought three more (and debated buying the company).  
He wasn’t sure when Cassandra had even found the sweater, but Bruce remembered seeing her walking into the kitchen one morning with the sweater askew on her lean frame. It dropped mid-thigh on the girl, the left sleeve pulled up to her elbow, while the other hung limp, and one of her shoulders peeked out of the stretched collar. Bruce was pretty sure she’d taken that thing to Tokyo and back.   
And Damian, Damian had actually found the fifth copy of the sweater two or three months ago. Bruce was getting ready for a gala that he _had_ to attend (thanks Alfred). Damian had been ‘helping’ as he did so, picking out a tie and socks to match. It was funny that one minuet, the Baby Bat was calling ‘the green or the silver, Father?’ and the next he was popping into the bathroom with a green tie in hand and the sweater burying his body in an indistinct glob of cashmere. It was so adorable, it had taken all of Batman’s training to suppress his expressions. Lucky sweater indeed.

And still Bruce’s favorite too- even more so with the memories. He couldn’t resist a smile as he pulled sweater number six over his head, giving a “thanks Alfred.” To his trusty butler that brought him just the right sweater since his kids were all a bunch of clothing thieves.


	8. Thank you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I believe that Gothamites (and Bludhaven residents) often give gifts to the BatFam as thanks- whether its food, scarves, knick-knacks, etc. Just little things to say thanks. :)

"Thank you, sweetie," Damian cringed internally at the pet-name, but remained silent for the septuagenarian didn’t say it mockingly. He even allowed her gentle pat to his cheek, her warm hand smelled of talc and jasmine, "not many help old ladies like me these days, especially with finding wandering kitties." Damian resisted expression, though he was delighted as the old woman cuddled her cat. Mr. Jingles, as he was called, purred softly and nuzzled the woman back, his namesake bell jangling. The silver and black tabby had been Damian’s quarry for the past 2 ½ hours tonight.

"It was no problem," Damian answered proudly, "Its my job." He rubbed under the cat’s chin.

"Well let me give you something."

"N-"

Before Damian could protest, Mr. Jingles was deposited into his arms while the woman puttered over to her recliner and its accompanying knitting basket, "What do you like better- red or green?"

"I must insist ma’am, I don’t require-"

"Let’s go with the green, it has the cutest little pom-pom." The old woman shuffled back to Damian with a knitted hat in her callused hands. It was green and white with an enormous pom-pom on the very top of it. She slipped down Damian’s hood and pulled the hat snugly over his head, "There now, how wonderful. Isn’t it warm?" She smiled brightly, while Damian was stock-still. He wanted to protest further, perhaps even yank the ridiculous hat off, especially about the child-like treatment that she gave him…but…truthfully, he’d already warmed to the woman.

This woman had wandered about looking for her cat until she was visibly chilled to the bone with pale skin and nonstop shivers. She had flagged Robin down to ask for his help, fussing with worry as he tried to escort her home, and only going when he promised to find her cat. Someone who cared so dearly for their pet was a good person in Damian’s book and with so few good people in said book…it was hard to get angry at her- even with the treatment that shouldn’t have been paid to someone of his standing.

"Uh, thank you." He uttered, offering her cat back and quickly springing to her window to rejoin Batman.

A smile, a wave, and a "No, thank you."

-later-

"Awww!" Dick gushed.

"Say not a word or I shall suffocate you without a second thought."

PART 2:

"What do you think, Mr. Hood? Are they good? I made them myself. My mom says I used too many chocolate chips, but I don’t think there’s **ever** too many chocolate chips. What do you think?" Jimmy Jones babbled, scarfing down a cookie and splattering crumbs.

"Don’t talk with your mouth full." Jason told him in true Alfred fashion, as he munched on a cookie himself, "I think they’re good, I like ‘em gooey and chocolate-y."

Jimmy beamed, "And never too many chocolate chips, right?"

Jason chuckled, "Right."

"I’ll go get milk too! Be right back!" The 7-year old hopped to his feet and went back into his apartment building through the roof access. Jason snickered, thinking _what a funny kid._ Happy that the boy was in high-spirits.

Jimmy Jones was the son of Erica Jones, who used to be a prostitute for the pimp MacDaddy. Used to be because Red Hood had put MacDaddy out of business with a couple bullets through his kneecaps. MacDaddy had been using his girls’ kids, including Jimmy, as leverage for their obedience. Not anymore, Red Hood saw to that, and he’d been Jimmy’s hero ever since.

Jason checked in every once in awhile when he could, Jimmy often waiting on the roof for him with snacks- it had become a weird routine for them. But Jason was glad for it, that way he could see that the kid was doing all right, adjusting to school-life and such.

"I brought milk!" Jimmy had returned with a whole gallon, making Jason laugh again.

PART 3:

"Uh-um, Mr. Nightwing-" Dick patiently gave the blushing teenaged boy his attention, "th-thanks for helping me, it doesn’t happen much…"

Dick smiled brightly, "No problem! I’m glad you’re safe!" He sombered a bit as he put a hand on the youth’s shoulder, "Just remember, its not you, its them with a problem. And anyone who would attack a kid about his sexuality is a coward. Try to speak up when you feel confident." The teen nodded with big grateful eyes, "Plus, I’m out here and I’ll have your back!"

That granted the hero a smile, "Thank you. Um, here." The kid took off one of his many rainbow jelly bracelets, handing it to Dick, "Please take it?"

"Thanks!" Nightwing accepted the bracelet, instantly snapping it on his wrist over the uniform, "It matches my eyes." He joked, offering a wave and a "See ya." As Oracle came over comms, drawing Dick’s attention to some burglary in-progress.

PART 4:

"Please, help yourselves to some slurpee." The owner of the convenience store called, stumbling to place two Styrofoam cups before Stephanie and Cass on the counter. He was clearly still shaken- sweating, eyes dilated, and he was literally shaking.

"That’s not necessary." Stephanie began, though she was vibrating at the idea of a grape slurpee, Cass could tell.

"No! You two just saved my life, I wish I had more to offer." The man still had fear and adrenaline in his body, _still shaking, uncoordinated_ but Cass also detected the relief and genuine gratitude, _deep breath, slow blinking, loosening shoulders_.

"Well thanks!" Steph scooped up her cup and raced to the slurpee machine, proclaiming, "Grape!" As she smashed the button and the purple concoction splashed out.

"Thank you. Slurpee good." Cass said to the man as she collected her own cup and went to join her friend at the machine. She was unable to decide between mango or pineapple so she went with both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone feels like throwing out an idea or a request- I'm open :P No promises though~


	9. Protect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Batkids are incredibly protective of each other….and their father. 'The only one allowed to bully my family is me!'

1-

Tim looked at the two men that were currently asking him to pay up for their ‘broken’ phones. Despite their clear attempt at intimidation, all hunched shoulders and wide stances, Tim could only think about if they knew how ridiculous they looked. Like, he was Bruce Wayne’s son, did they really think that no one had ever tried scamming him before? Not that this scam was even worth a second thought. First of all, they had bumped into him and dropped their phones. Second, their phones weren’t broken, not even a crack that Tim could see. And third, what possible indication was there on Tim’s face that made them think this was working? He was not remotely sorry or the tiniest bit scared.

"Hey Tim!" Tim turned towards Jason’s ecstatic voice, "You’ve got to come see this, I think Damian’s gonna rip somebody’s face off!" Jason put his hand on Tim’s shoulder as he spoke with a grin. He paused, taking in the two who were confronting Tim, smile flattening into a hard line, and eyes going sharp, "What’s goin’ on?" Tim could only laugh inside as the two looked at his mountain of a brother with mouths agape, "Got a problem with my little brother?" Jason growled, seeming to tower even more as he puffed up with anger. _Like a blow-fish_. Tim though in amusement.

"N-no! Of course not!" They balked.

Jason only glared at them, "Timmy?"

"No problem. They were just apologizing for bumping into me, isn’t that right?" Tim answered, offering a benign smile to the two, who nodded rapidly. "So~what about the demon?"

"Oh!" Jason hooked his arm around Tim, steering them off, "I think he’s gonna rip some guy’s face off!" Tim let out a chuckle from hearing the sheer delight in Jason’s voice.


	10. April9th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DickandDamiWeek2019. April 9th was Paparazzi. But I'm also going to use this set of things to convey some of my other headcannons (please and thank you). Like A- I believe Dick has the widest range of 'masks' for situations *see end notes for more if you care. And B- I totally subscribe to the headcannon that Bruce Wayne gets shipped with Batman in DCU. :D

Despite Richard being Damian’s favorite brother; the one who understood him the best of all the family, the one he could, without doubt, be sure loved him…he was still very confusing at times. He was absurdly flexible, and not just in body. In temperament and personality- he was deceptively dynamic. ‘Adaptable’ Father would supply with pride when consulted on the matter. While Todd merely dismissed Damian’s curiosity with ‘ **Life** is a performance for Dickface’. Drake would just shrug, like such was the norm, while Brown infuriatingly added ‘It’s an essential Wayne skill’ even though she was not asked. And Cassandra only offered the tilt of her head and ‘Dick is…Dick.’ Still Damian couldn’t let the matter drop.

Probably because it drove Damian up the wall when his brother applied this skill (that’s what he would call it at this stage)…especially in front of the paparazzi. Damian hated the paparazzi in spades, a good part because of the slight change in his brother. It was maddening, mostly because Damian couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was like his brother was himself but also not. Like he was wearing a metaphorical mask, but it was so precise that Damian couldn’t exactly call it outright deception.

"What’s the matter, Dami? Brain freeze?" Dick asked with a cock of his head.

"Its nothing." Damian answered lowly, spinning his ice cream around in his bowl and sending a glare out the windows of the ice cream shop at the cameras.

Dick paused, observing his little brother for just a moment before it clicked, "Can’t help that our dad is famous." He chuckled at Damian’s dark look, "Play it up." Dick’s expression went pure deviant, turning just enough in his seat that the pap would get a perfect view as he ran his tongue over his ice cream cone in a way that Father would’ve scolded him for and people would be producing dollar bills. The flashes came rapid-fire, blinding and annoying.  
Damian didn’t know how Dick could handle it, this brainless show of tomfoolery and inflation of imbecilic behavior. Which of course he said as such to his brother, "They like characters Dami, and I’m going for…harmless more than ‘brainless’." He responded with a laugh and that too benign smile that made Damian itch, "Besides, you can’t possibly think I’m the worst! Bruce gets shipped with himself!"

"’Shipped’?" Damian repeated with a raised eyebrow, "What does that mean?"

Dick paused and then he looked utterly delighted. Damian tried not to cringe- this joy usually meant unwelcome and crushing hugs. "You really don’t know?!"

Damian glared, "If it were truly important, I’d know it."

Dick waved his hands, like brushing that aside and then leaning in, voice conspiratorial, "Bruce Wayne is in relationship with Batman."

Damian knew his expression was one of undisguised confusion, "What?"

Dick nodded, "Yeah, it’s a huge thing on the Internet. Its so funny, right?"

Damian was baffled, "How is such possible?"

"Like I was saying, ‘Brucie’ is so far from Batsy that…they apparently make a cute couple." He laughed, "Opposites attract you know." Damian stirred his ice cream more as he tried to digest this new information. Father was most successful with his deception if his two identifies were so separate that people believed him to be in a relationship with himself. It was impressive and weird, mostly weird, "So you see, I’m not the worst, I’m just being a little extra for the pap, but I’m still me…mostly." Dick winked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've noticed that I portray Dick as peppy and happy a lot and honest to god, I know there's more to his character than that! I promise! I just believe that when he's around his family- he is the happy peppy big brother. He doesn't have to be intimidating or demanding respect because he already has it at home- his family respects him and knows his capabilities. He's usually the 'light' one at home because everyone else is 'dark'. I see Dick's fundamental character is that he's a balancer- he'll change his behavior to balance whatever situation best. Like he can be scary AF and heaven help you if Dick Grayson is comin after you. I just write so much dang fluff that I don't get to portray that side of him (hopefully to be rectified with this upcoming nonsense) Thanks to all my readers. <3 Much luuuuv!


	11. April10th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April 10th was Fear Gas or Injury

C-grade criminal Chase Kovin got a lucky shot to Robin’s chest, gratified to hear the kid give a loud grunt of pain, until he realized _oh shit- he actually made a noise_. Bat’s kids weren’t supposed to make much noise when hit unless… _oh fuck_. Chase could already feel the air changing around Nightwing. _Oh dear god._

There’s a few rules, unwritten but utterly clear, that every B- and C- grade thug in Gotham knew:

  1. Do not involve yourself with the crazy bosses; ie Joker, Two-Face (on his bad days), Black Mask and so on; unless you fucking WANT to die- because those guys give zero fucks about underlings and will kill you themselves if it suits them.
  2. Do not follow bosses that target kids in their schemes- chances are you’ll lose functioning limbs and you’ll fucking deserve it.
  3. Obviously when the Bats show up, ya give them a good fight, but do NOT give them a reason to mangle your ass. This meant as long as they didn’t make noise when hit- you were good. (Of course gun-fights were something else- another set of rules) But if you like **hurt** one of the Bats then you’re going to end up like numero dos.



And Nightwing was the fucking worst to cross rule number three in front of. Chase knew, like every Gotham thug in his position knew, that most would never believe it. Never believe how the switch flipping was nearly audible and you could **feel** it in your guts, that suddenly the peppy, somewhat playful Nightwing- the Nightwing whose showmanship was still a 10/10 during a down-and-out fight- became…that.

Chase didn’t even know when Nightwing had closed the distance to Robin, when he’d knocked out the three men surrounding him. He just felt his shins then knees crack violently. Whipped off his feet and crashing left-cheek flat to the pavement, the air left Chase’s body in a rush, leaving him gasping when the voltage came through his body.

"Robin?" Nightwing called, gravel in his voice. Chase did the smart thing, curling up on his side and hoping to escape more notice if he played possum.

"Tt, I’m fine Nightwing, you overreacted. I could’ve handled him myself." Robin replied pompously, but even Chase could hear the wheeze to his words. He winced, knowing Nightwing must hear it too.

Chase prayed to gods that he didn’t even believe in. Then thanked them all the same when Robin and Nightwing disappeared into the shadows.

-

"I’m alright, stop fretting." Damian snapped, up to his ears in irritation as Dick flitted over him like a hummingbird at a flower.

"Your lung almost collapsed!" Dick responded, waving his hands about.

"’Almost’ being the key word here." Damian said with a roll of his eyes, until Dick gave him **that look**. The look that told Damian he needed to change his behavior or face consequences. Damian shrunk a little and reevaluated what to say to keep Richard from more overreaction, "It’s a minor injury…"

"When it’s anything involving your soft squishy inner bits, it’s not ‘minor’."


	12. April11th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April 11th is 'Music' :) It also goes with my headcannon of the sort of music that Dick Grayson listens to!

_"I knock the ice from my bones~ Try not to feel the cold…"_ Damian heard the soft music, wandering from the guestroom at Dick’s Bludhaven apartment, to the living room. _"Caught in the thought of that time~ When everything was fine, everything was mine."_ It was 5 am, they had just gotten to bed at 3, and yet there was Richard- doing an intricate array of stretches in the middle of his living room. _"Everything was fine, everything was mine."_ While music that Damian could only assign the word ‘melancholy’ to sang out. _"All the king's horses and all the king's men~ Couldn't put me back together again."_

Damian watched his brother through the various poses, trying to gauge his expression. It was vulnerable and hurt, pensive like the music. Damian only took a second to guess the cause- nightmares. Not a surprise, given that everyone in their family, even Father, suffered from that torment at night. Still, it hurt to see his brother so utterly drained.

"Richard."

"Oh! Hey Dames! What are you doing up??" Dick smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

"I heard the music." Damian walked to the couch and sat in front of his brother as Dick folded this way and that, "This is not your typical drivel that you claim to be music."

"Just…wasn’t feeling Britney Spears this morning." Dick answered with a soft laugh, "I didn’t think I had it loud enough to bother you."

Damian shook his head; "It doesn’t bother me." Actually it was nice compared to ‘Toxic’, if not for the sad drawl to it and how telling it was that Dick had put it on in the first place. It was also an interesting aspect to his brother- Dick’s musical choices that is. He listened to anything that he ‘felt’- his words, not Damian’s. Music that made him happy, music that made him want to move, music that felt like any one in his family; something heavier with lots of bass was usually Jason, something between rock and pop for Cass, classical naturally for Alfred, etc.

And in that same vein, his music was indicative of his mood. Sad music meant sad Dick.

"I’ll turn off the music, why don’t you get back to bed." Dick said with another one of those not smiles as he finished his stretch and elegantly rolled back up to his feet.

Damian went through the selection of responses in his head, from dismissive to agreement, knowing that he must get Richard back to bed as well. Alas, he had to choose the childish one, "Only if you come too."

There was some true brightness to Dick’s smile this time; "You want me to tuck you in?"

"Yes, I will not return to bed unless you do." Damian responded, hiding his embarrassment.

"Aww of course then!" Richard took almost no time to switch off his stereo and then scoop Damian into his arms. The boy was not a child, but he tolerated this for his brother, even as the nuzzling into his hair began. They arrived to the guest bedroom and Damian was sat on the bed, bundled under the covers and then had a kiss plastered loudly on his forehead, "G’nite Dami."

"Stay with me until I fall asleep." The request was met with more brightness, which meant Damian’s plan was working.

"Sure." Dick laid out on top of the covers, soothingly patting the blankets. After a moment, he asked, "So why did you ask me to tuck you in?"

"Why were you awake?" That vulnerable expression that made Damian ache too, "What was the nightmare?"

"Oh- its nothing-" Dick tried to smile but his lips were starting to tremble and his voice got heavy, "it was just a bad dream." Damian reached for his brother’s hand, closing his fingers around Dick’s jittery ones. He broke at the contact, starting to cry, quietly, wanting to suppress it though Damian wouldn’t judge him for it, "J-just the same stupid bad dream…everyone is falling and I can’t do anything…hitting pavement…bodies crumpled like used paper…"

Damian knew many words he could offer- that it was only a dream, that everyone in the family were skilled individuals who knew how to take a fall, that this scenario was unlikely- nigh impossible that ALL of them would be falling, and other such practicalities. But he also knew that those words were empty when faced with nightmares, so he just hugged his brother and let Dick cry. Soon tears ran dry and his body became pliant, soft and slow breaths, Damian smiled a little as he looked at his sleeping brother.

"Goodnight Richard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was more sad than I think I intended? Song is- All the King’s Horses by Karmina. I also have nothing against Britney Spears or her music! XD


End file.
